


Eggshell or Cream?

by thelonelywriter



Series: 30 Day OTP NSFW Challenge [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angry Dean, Artist Castiel, Blow Jobs, Carpenter Dean, Love/Hate, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 05:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4336082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelonelywriter/pseuds/thelonelywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shut your fucking mouth," Dean growled. Before Cas could think of how badly his response could go, it was coming out of his mouth.</p><p>"Make me," he dared. Dean held back for a moment, glancing at Castiel's fiery eyes and then his lips, his fucking amazing lips that Dean only dreamed of kissing. They were right there. So he went for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eggshell or Cream?

**Author's Note:**

> Day Five was, 'Blowjob,' so here ya go!! (Teensy warning, this is unbeta'd so don't kill me for bad writing)

Hatred does not cease by hatred, but only by love; this is the eternal rule.

~Buddha~

If you had asked Dean Winchester of his opinion of Castiel Novak, the artist who was helping with the floor plan of the house Dean was building custom made for a family, he would've said he was a stuck up prick. If you had asked Castiel Novak of his opinion on Dean Winchester, he would say he was an uncultured neanderthal who was most likely color blind.

Neither one of them expected the other. The family had forgotten to tell Dean that there would be someone else invading the house, so he found out on his own when he opened the door to find the most handsome person he had ever seen. Deep, blue eyes that looked just the slightest bit tired set on a pale face with the most incredible cheekbones ever. Dean was sure he didn't speak for an hour because he was just staring this guy down. "Um, can I help you?" Dean asked, bringing himself back to the real world. Why was there a mysterious, attractive man on the doorstep of an unfinished house?

"I'm the one the Trans sent to help," he told Dean in a surprisingly gruff voice. Dean just gave the man a confused look. "My name is Castiel Novak, I help make sure everything is done the way the owners want it. I paint too, I majored in Fine Arts," Cas babbled on because, _wow,_ he did not expect to be working with someone so attractive.

Dean looked him up and down once more, debating whether to call the Trans and ask about this guy, but he figured that, alright, the guy sounded legitimate. Dean opened the door, letting him in, and Castiel immediately went wandering the house. Walking over to the counter, Dean leaned against it, crossing his arms as he watched Castiel scribble down some notes on a pad of paper. "You want me to walk you through the house?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head, the dark mop of hair bouncing as he did so. He turned to Dean with a soft smile.

"It's alright, you can keep working, I'll find my way. I do have the floor plan, after all," he told Dean, holding up a roll of paper that he had awkwardly carried in. Dean nodded, letting Castiel poke around downstairs and up whilst Dean continued spreading plaster over an unfinished wall.

It was a half an hour later when Castiel came back downstairs, placing the roll of paper on the countertop with a sigh. Dean placed down the trowel he was using and brushed his hands on his worn out, stained jeans. "How'd it go?" Dean questioned hopefully. He had worked hard on the house, he was hoping Castiel would at least give him good, positive feedback. He got his hopes up too high, however.

"Where do I begin?" Castiel sighed, looking over the floor plan. "The countertops are wrong, the wood in the twin bedroom is the wrong laminate, the fireplace isn't level, and that's just the beginning," Castiel explained, looking sternly at Dean. 

It was then that Dean knew that though this man was sexy as fuck, they would not be getting along, not one bit.

\---

Two weeks later Dean was just waiting to snap like a rubber band. Cas was the most pretentious person, looking around, inspecting everything like _he_ was in charge. Dean was supposed to be the one orchestrating this, not this stupid asshole. Well, gorgeous asshole, Dean had to admit.

But one day, as Dean was painting the wall, Castiel walked in from upstairs, looking at the paint bucket. He glanced at Dean, then the wall, then made stone cold eye contact with him. "Wrong color. It's supposed to be cream, not eggshell," he said with a slight shake of his head. "I should've painted it," he mumbled to himself. It was then that the rubber band inside of Dean snapped. 

Dean grabbed the front of Castiel's shirt, and shoved his back up against the wet, eggshell colored wall. "What the hell are you doing?!" Castiel crowed, and Dean just pushed forward so they were inches away.

"Listen, I have had to deal with all your shit for the last two weeks, and I am fucking done. You have taken over everything, and you know what? It's time for me to take charge. So fuck off with your goddam eggshell versus cream because I don't care," Dean fumed, looking Castiel in the eye. Castiel's eyes were glowing with anger as he spat back a response.

"I've been trying to help you, Dean, but apparently you can't see that. And you know what I think? I think you're a cocky bastard who can't get your shit together," he hissed. Dean pressed closer, and suddenly a different emotion passed through Castiel's eyes.

"Shut your fucking mouth," Dean growled. Before Cas could think of how badly his response could go, it was coming out of his mouth.

"Make me," he dared. Dean held back for a moment, glancing at Castiel's fiery eyes and then his lips, his fucking amazing lips that Dean only dreamed of kissing. They were right there. So he went for it.

He shoved Castiel even closer to the wall so their bodies met as Dean crashed his lips down unto Castiel's with a furious passion. Castiel met it, opening his mouth immediately as Dean's tongue ravished his mouth hungrily, and Castiel let out a moan at the long awaited taste of Dean.

Dean placed his forearms beside Cas, each one on either side, bracketing him in. Dean pulled back, biting Castiel's lip hard enough so that he tasted blood, so that Cas was whimpering, his hands sliding up Dean's shirt, clawing at his back hard enough to leave long red lines. His hands pulled Dean's shirt up, and Dean pulled away, panting as he threw it off, and Castiel whispered a curse under his breath because the planes of tan skin and muscles were enough to make his dick perk up. 

Dean pressed back into Cas, his lips brushing his jawline before going downwards, biting, and nipping as Castiel bared his neck for Dean. Bright red bruises appeared, and Dean smirked at them, pulling away to glance at them with pride. But then, Castiel was turning them around, pressing Dean to the sticky wall. At first Dean was confused, but he caught on once Castiel was palming Dean's cock through his jeans, and kneeling onto his knees. 

Castiel quickly undid the zipper and button, having no time for teasing. He yanked down Dean's jeans and boxers, his hardened cock bobbing up. Castiel grinned, stroking it once, Dean gasping softly in response. "Fucking beautiful," Cas muttered, thinking of how he had imagined this so many times when he was laying on his bed, hand wrapped around himself.

He slid his mouth onto Dean's cock, teasing the head, tasting the salty precome that had been coaxed out of it. He swirled his tongue in circles, then suckled hard, and that was a big hit for Dean, who moaned loudly above him. Dean's hands snuck out Castiel's hair, pulling it tightly as Cas slipped further on, whining at the slight pain Dean's hands brought. "Cas, oh God, just like that," Dean groaned, resisting the urge to fuck into Cas' mouth. Castiel moaned at the praise, and the vibrations sent sparks up Dean's spine.

Castiel used one hand to jack Dean off, his tongue moving in time with his hand. The other hand traveled down, palming at his own erection, and bucking up into it. Dean saw the motion and grinned. "Yeah, c'mon, Cas, get yourself off for me," he declared, and Castiel easily followed his order, fumbling with his pants until they were mid-thigh, and his cock was hanging out, hard and heavy in his hand.

Dean watched with rapture as Castiel's hand moved quickly, and his eyes fluttered shut. "Fuck, Cas, you look like a goddam angel," Dean praised as Castiel worked furiously on himself, and worked like a pro on Dean, swallowing him so Dean's cock bumped the back of his throat. 

Dean nearly hit the roof when he was completely inside of Castiel's mouth. The warmth, the wetness, the hot tongue, it was enough to make the pleasure inside of him begin to flow harshly through him.

Castiel, meanwhile, was already approaching his orgasm. His hand used quick motions, precise, and rapid, a rhythm that had him on the teetering edge of a bursting wave of arousal. "Christ, Cas, you're mouth is amazing," Dean choked out, and Castiel looked up at him with those big doe eyes that had Dean even closer to his climax because Dean had fantasized about this for weeks.

Cas' hand squeezed even tighter around himself as he watched Dean above him, and seeing Dean coming so undone was enough for him to come, pleasure cresting, his muscles going numb. 

Dean saw Castiel moan loudly coming all over the floor, the one that had just been replaced by his request, and Dean got even closer. With a groan, he stroked Castiel's hair, his fingers running through it. "C'mon, Cas, c'mon," Dean panted, and Castiel gave one more harsh suck before Dean was spilling his come down Cas' throat, and Castiel was swallowing it all, suckling every last drop before pulling off.

Dean slid down the wall, panting, and Castiel flopped backwards, lying down, not caring that he was getting eggshell paint on the new floors. Dean smirked, huffing a breath of laughter. "We should go on a date, you know," he proposed. Castiel propped himself up on his elbows, looking fondly over at Dean.

"Only if we paint the walls cream," Castiel compromised, zipping up his pants. Dean smiled, nodding.

"Cream it is."

**Author's Note:**

> There's that. Who's excited for tomorrow?? *crickets* Anyways, this is a weaker work of mine so I apologize, I wrote it in one day so spare me (I make a ton of excuses sorrry)


End file.
